


You only live forever in the lights you make

by Unholy



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Camp Half-Blood, Demigods, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fights, Friendship, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hate to Love, Human Derek Hale, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Minor Character Death, Punk Michael, Revenge, Self Confidence Issues, Suicide Attempt, Temporary Character Death, Violence, Wolves, and i don't know how to tag this, but not werewolf, but there's like no suicidal thoughts so it's not too graphic, don't have to know about teen wolf, everyone falls in love, everyone is a demigod, i honestly don't even know what this is, or well demigod, people do crazy things when they're in love, slight bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4618644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unholy/pseuds/Unholy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Luke delays resurfacing for as long as he can, until his head starts spinning and his lungs feel like they’re going to burst out of his trunk. Kicking his feet against the tiles for a boost, he swims back to the surface, gasping for air as soon as his head breaks out of the water. He hears Louis’ phone beep when he stops the timer.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“How long was that?” Luke asks when he’s caught his breath. All Louis seems to be able to do is stare at the numbers displayed on the screen of his phone, then gaze at Luke for a while before looking back at his phone, only to repeat it all over again.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“What the fuck,” Louis blurts out eventually, eyes still trained on his phone. The light it emits reflects in his eyes. Luke can almost read the numbers it displays in his irises. “What the fuck.”</i>
</p>
<p>Or Luke has to flee to Camp Half-Blood with his (apparently demigod) best friend Louis, but what they’re running from turns out to be bigger and closer than they ever imagined. And the gorgeous boy named Michael with the cocky smile and the pretty eyes that everyone warns him about isn’t of any help at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Look alive, Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Larry_IsMyJam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larry_IsMyJam/gifts).



> Veerle and Zoey you better be very fucking grateful for this lmao.  
> So, to be honest I don’t even know what this is. It sounds kind of messy - which, really, it is, tbh - but it’ll be better than it sounds, I promise. Two of the characters are based on my friends and I still haven’t stopped laughing.  
> There will be some violence, blood, and slight bullying in this fic, so if that triggers you, please be careful. I hope you’ll enjoy!  
> Comments are always very appreciated! :)  
> Title from The Kids From Yesterday by My Chemical Romance.

“Oi, Lucas, hurry up! Mrs Robbins is going to kill us if we’re late again!” Louis’ voice breaks through the surface of the water Luke is hiding under, muffled and contorted, but still clear and urgent in the way only Louis’ voice can be. All he can see is the different shades of blue from the tiles of the swimming pool in the distorted shape the water leaves them with, and the artificial light from the ceiling lights and the ones embedded in the pool. Luke pushes himself off the bottom of the pool with his feet, breaking the surface of the chlorinated water within seconds. Little droplets stick to his face and make his hair hang limply on his forehead and in his eyes. His lungs suck in oxygen greedily, burning from the long time he spent under water.

“She’s not going to kill _you_ , just me. She likes you,” he counters, swimming to the edge of the pool and swiftly pulling himself out. Louis snorts when he throws Luke a towel. The fluffy white fabric is soft even in Luke’s damp hands.

“Likes me? That crazy witch? Are you insane?” he asks. “Did the chlorine damps finally get to you? She looks at me like she wants to chuck me off a cliff.”

Luke rolls his eyes as he wipes the remnants of water off his bare torso and he shakes his head like a dog so some drops of water jump out of his hair and land onto Louis, seeping into his shirt. He protests loudly and tries to wipe them off, but only makes it worse. Luke chuckles.

“She hates me even more, and I don’t even know what I did to her. Wouldn’t be surprised if she actually _did_ throw me off a cliff soon,” he replies, putting on the clothes Louis had brought for him; a simple sweater and a pair of skinny jeans. Both black, contrary to the colourful combinations Louis always wears.  

“You know I won’t let her do that,” the smaller boy replies, like it’s nothing. It makes Luke smile, reminds him that Louis really does care about him. Luke tends to forget. Moments like these are rare in their friendship, which was mainly built out of Louis being a sarcastic and borderline-mean little shit while Luke is always more quiet and withdrawn, too shy to really come out of his shell. Thus far, Louis had been the only one able to break through the mental wall Luke had built up, tearing it down brick by brick with gentle jokes and lived-after promises. Luke had always thought it was weird that Louis had even tried to be friends with him, because the brunette was always so lively and full of energy, while Luke preferred to remain by himself in solitude, and he couldn’t be all that much fun for Louis to hang out with. But even at the roots of their friendship, when Luke had still tried to push Louis away, keep him out, Louis had kept trying, unwavering and with no intention to give up. And once Luke had finally let him in, he never left. When Luke and Louis officially were friends, Luke’s life had taken a turn for the better. He finally had someone he could talk to when he needed to, and who also understood that silence was better than words sometimes, even through his hyperactivity. Louis’ almost constant presence by Luke’s side had also helped to keep the kids that weren’t too fond of Luke away, because even though Louis wasn’t much in size, his tongue was as sharp as a blade and he wasn’t afraid to get in a fight for people he cared about – and he was a much better fighter than most people gave him credit for. No one openly bothered Luke anymore after Louis proved himself.

Luke still asks Louis why he’s friends with him on bad days, when he’s feeling particularly self-conscious, but Louis always buries his doubts immediately and somehow manages to not make Luke feel stupid and whiny when doing so. It’s admirable, really. He’s a great friend, underneath all the gimmicks and bravado that make Luke wonder what Louis is doing with someone like him. Because Louis is _cool_ , and funny and charming despite his attitude, and Luke is just so plain and _geeky_. There’s really no other way to describe him. He’s freakishly tall and skinny (which makes it hard for him to fit in with the lot) and though he’s the star of the school’s swimming team, he’s awful at any other activity that requires physical effort but above-average smart and always gets exceptional grades, while Louis is tiny (though it’s not safe to use that word within a close proximity of him) and has a small belly and an _amazing_ ass, and he outdoes every single footie player at their school with ease. Luke always tells him he should try to go professional, but Louis just shakes his head every time he brings it up and wrinkles his nose in a cute way that reminds Luke of a kitten.

“I wouldn’t leave you behind in this hellhole, Lukey,” he always replies, swinging an arm around Luke’s broad shoulders, for which he needs to stretch on his tip-toes to even come close. “How would you survive without me here to hand you a towel every time you forget to bring one yourself?”

Luke honestly doesn’t know what he would do without Louis.

“Come on, loser, hurry,” Louis urges him again, pushing the black skinny jeans in Luke’s hands. The blonde finally knows to take it as friendly banter – and maybe there’s some fondness hidden underneath as well – and rolls his eyes, squeezing his long legs into the tight fabric. It’s made even harder than it already is usually by his still moist skin. As soon as he buttons the jeans up, Louis grabs his elbow and starts dragging him away from the pool, to class. Luke barely has time to grab his bag before they’re out the door. They’re in a boarding school, both sent there by their mothers as a last resort – Luke because he wasn’t accepted or happy in any other school they had tried out, and Louis because this was the only place the teachers were tough enough to calm his excessive demeanour when it got too much. It was common knowledge that Louis had ADHD (really, how could he _not_?) but he refused to take any medication for it, so he was a lot to handle sometimes. Luke had never really minded. Louis talks enough for the both of them, so he doesn’t have to say much himself. His quiet nature seems to calm Louis down most of the time, too, so it’s a win-win situation for the both of them. They’re polar opposites, but they go weirdly great together. It’s a blessing, really.

They only just make it to class in time, rushing across the threshold right when Mrs Robbins is about to close the door. The glare she sends their backs as they scramble to take their seats is hard to ignore, especially when the entire class whispers under their breath and turns their heads between the teacher and the two boys like they’re watching a tennis match, eager to see who will score and who will trip. Louis just rolls his eyes and sits down, glaring at some of the kids staring at him. They turn their gaze immediately. Luke has more trouble keeping his cool with all the eyes on him and he trips over his own feet, barely managing to stay upright by grabbing the edge of his desk and sliding onto his chair clumsily. His cheeks are burning red from the giggles and snickers that echo through the classroom and he reaches to take his books from his bag with trembling hands. The heat in his face subsides slightly when Louis inconspicuously puts a hand on his lower back to comfort him, his palm a gentle pressure on his skin. It helps. Luke’s hands stop trembling so badly and he relaxes his shoulders, which he’d tensed up from embarrassment to hunch down and make himself as small as possible. It’s a bad habit, it gives him headaches if he does it too much, but he can’t help it.

“How nice of you to join us. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it,” Mrs Robinson says – or sneers – annoyance evident in her eyes. Louis puts on his sweetest smile and runs his hand up and down Luke’s back subtly. It keeps him grounded when he wishes the ground would swallow him up so he wouldn’t have to live through all the embarrassment and attention. He hates being in the spotlight.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” the brunette says sweetly, his pink lips curled up into a smile but his eyes cold and hard, a look that would scare Luke had they not been friends. Louis can be very intimidating if he wants to. Mrs Robbins ignores them, luckily, and turns to the blackboard. Luke takes a deep breath to calm himself down and turns to Louis, a small smile on his face.

“Thanks,” he whispers, straightening his back so he’s sitting upright rather than curled up as small as possible. Louis returns the smile with a genuine one, blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Always,” he replies. He keeps his hand on Luke’s back through the entire class. Luke always teased him for being overly protective, but he secretly was very glad about the unconditional care and concern Louis seemed to have for him, although he still didn’t really know where it was coming from.

*****

As soon as the two of them arrive at the pool again later that day, Luke struggles to take his jeans off while remaining on his feet and moving. Louis’ loud laugh echoes off the walls when he trips and nearly falls face-first onto the wet floor. Luke barely even hears it though, too busy tugging his sweater off his upper body. He dumps it on the floor as soon as it’s off, even though it’s guaranteed to get wet that way, and smoothly dives into the pool, resurfacing after a few seconds.

“Did you try for a new record yet?” Louis asks, picking up Luke’s clothes and draping them over the metal bar in front of the tribune. Luke shakes his head.

“No, I didn’t want to risk doing that without anyone else here to make sure it doesn’t go wrong,” he replies. Louis cocks an eyebrow.

“Without _me_ here to make sure you actually come out of that goddamn pool alive, you mean,” he says. Luke chuckles half-heartedly.

“Yeah, exactly,” he mumbles. Louis claps his hands excitedly.

“Okay then, I’m here now. Let’s do this.” He pulls his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, pulling up the stopwatch. “Ready?”

Luke nods and breathes in and out deeply a couple of times, both mentally and physically preparing himself. Louis counts down and when he reaches “one”, Luke takes a large gulp of air, squeezes his eyes shut and disappears underneath the surface. The water isn’t heated, so it’s cool against his skin, the sudden change from warm air causing goosebumps to erupt on his arms. He pries his eyes open after a few moments. The chlorine stings in his blue orbs but he’s gotten used to it after years of daily swimming sessions – more often than not even multiple times a day – so he forces his eyes to remain open. The surface still undulates gently where he just dove under and the movements of the water cast funny shadows on the tiles. His hair is an even lighter shade of blond than usual and it waves around his head like kelp, dancing in and out of his view. It’s getting long. He should have it cut soon.

When he looks up, he sees Louis’ figure bending over the pool slightly to keep an eye on him, misshapen by the layers of water between them. Luke must look similar to him. Just to have something to do, he swims several laps near the bottom of the pool, but after a while his body starts craving air and his chest hurts from the lack of oxygen. He delays resurfacing for as long as he can, until his head starts spinning and his lungs feel like they’re going to burst out of his trunk. Kicking his feet against the tiles for a boost, he swims back to the surface, gasping for air as soon as his head breaks out of the water. He hears Louis’ phone beep when he stops the timer.

“How long was that?” Luke asks when he’s caught his breath. All Louis seems to be able to do is stare at the numbers displayed on the screen of his phone, then gaze at Luke for a while before looking back at his phone, only to repeat it all over again. Luke gets anxious after he’s done it multiple times and he hoists himself up on the edge of the pool, muscles flexing as he climbs out.

“What?” he asks, grabbing the towel that Louis is holding in his other hand. The brunette just stares at him with his big, blue eyes. His mouth opens and closes repeatedly without a sound coming out, like a fish on shore. Luke gets increasingly worried by the second.

“What the fuck,” Louis blurts out eventually, eyes still trained on his phone. The light it emits reflects in his eyes. Luke can almost read the numbers it displays in his irises. “What the fuck.”

“ _What_?!” Luke presses, draping the towel over his shoulders. He shivers at the air that comes in contact with his wet skin, hunching up his shoulders in an attempt to stay warm. Finally, Louis finds his tongue again.

“That was almost fifteen minutes. Fifteen fucking minutes,” he says, staring at Luke with a look in his eyes the blond can’t quite decipher. His own eyes widen.

“Wow,” he mutters. “I definitely broke my old record.”

“You didn’t just break it, you shattered it. Destroyed it,” Louis counters. “That’s almost creepy.”

“How is that only ‘almost’ creepy?” Luke asks, staring at the pool like it’s haunted – which it could very well be, he decides. “Fifteen minutes isn’t normal.”

The look on Louis’ face softens and he puts his phone away. “That’s not what I meant. You just broke your underwater record with, like, eight minutes. You doubled it. That’s insane.”

Luke makes a face. “Seven minutes was long already. Fifteen is just creepy.”

Louis sighs and shakes his head, retrieving Luke’s clothes. “You’re perfectly normal,” he says, but he’s cut off by Luke before he can say anything else.

“How is this normal?! What I just did is not supposed to be physically possible,” he hisses, voice so low it’s almost a whisper, like he’s afraid others are going to overhear it even though they’re the only ones there. Louis shuts him up by throwing his sweater in his face.

“You’re a nerd,” he snorts, placing his hands on his hips and looking at Luke with that look he gets in his eyes when he’s thoroughly determined about something and nothing Luke says or does will change his mind. Luke knows he’s already lost their small argument. “And you’re _normal_. Trust me.”

Luke glances over his shoulder at the pool and opens his mouth to say something, but Louis shushes him. “Luke, look at me.” He doesn’t continue until Luke’s eyes lock with his own.

“I promise.”

The uneasy feeling in his stomach doesn’t dissipate fully, but it does decrease a little. At least Louis doesn’t think he’s weird, or freaky, or whatever. As long as Louis is by his side, he can handle what other people think of him. “Okay,” he answers, in lack of better words, but Louis seems to understand what he really means to say. Like he always does.

“Okay,” the brunette says, pushing the black jeans into Luke’s hands as well. “Now get dressed. That horrible chlorine stench is making me dizzy.”


	2. I’d be another memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get confused by English idiom sometimes. It took me like twenty minutes to figure out what the English version of a Dutch expression is and I still don't know if I got it right. :') Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Luke can’t sleep. It’s two in the morning and he’s lying in his bed on his back, staring at the ceiling. The duvet slid off his upper body, revealing the Misfits tank that Louis bought him for his last birthday. He’s so tired his eyes are burning but as soon as he closes them, he’s wide awake again. And admittedly, the loud snoring sounds Louis is emitting don’t help at all. It only takes that much longer for Luke to sigh and push the covers off himself completely, slipping out of bed as silently as he can. He grabs a change of clothes from his and Louis’ shared wardrobe and takes a towel from the stack in their bathroom. His major growth spurt only happened fairly recently so he’s still not very well-coordinated, and he manages to knock over some stocked bottles of shampoo and shower gel with his elbow when he turns around to exit the room. Cursing under his breath, he glances to Louis, but the brunette is still fast asleep. His chest rises and falls steadily with his even, deep breathing. Luke doesn’t bother picking the bottles up. He just puts on a pair of sweatpants and slips out the door, closing it behind him silently. It creaks loudly, however, and he cringes. The sound is so much louder when everything else is silent. Luke feels a bit like a bull in a china store.

After making sure Louis is still asleep one last time – which he is – Luke continues his journey down the floor of the dorm rooms and descends several sets of stairs. The sport halls are on the opposite side of the building, so it takes him quite a while to get there in broad daylight – even longer when it’s pitch dark and he can barely see his hand when he stretches his arm out in front of him. None of the students are allowed to wander the hallways at night and Luke will be in great trouble when someone sees him, so he doesn’t dare using his phone as a flashlight. The darkness causes him to stumble more than once – though that might also have something to do with his crazy long legs that he still hasn’t gotten used to – but he makes it to the swimming pool without any major injuries. He only has a small scrape on his arm from where he almost tripped and fell down the stairs so he had to grab the handrail and his arm scraped the rough material of the wall. Luke can’t be bothered by it when he flicks the light switch and sees the pool, though. The clear water lies completely still and its surface reflects the ceiling lights. It looks so inviting Luke’s skin itches to feel its cool embrace. He peels his tank off and shimmies out of his sweats, diving into the pool as soon as the garments touch the ground. The water swallows him up, easily as ever, and he can feel his muscles relax as he lets the cool touch of it calm his mind. He stays under the surface for a while just because, but swims up for air sooner than he usually would because Louis isn’t there to look after him and he’d rather be safe than sorry.

The chlorine in the water stings in the wound on his arm and he makes a mental note to put some ointment on it later to prevent it from getting infected. He occupies himself for a while by swimming laps back and forth in an easy tempo, doing it for fun and to calm down rather than to push his limits and get better, faster. The pool feels more like a home to him than the rest of the school ever did, no matter how weird that sounds. He’s always felt more comfortable in water than with his feet on solid ground. Most people always made him out to be weird for it. Louis was the only one who ever seemed to really understand. Whenever Luke is surrounded by water – whether he’d be swimming in the deep ocean or just standing in the rain – that’s when he feels most confident. That’s when he ever even feels confident at all, actually. It’s like the liquid gives him strength, like he could conquer the world if he wanted to. That’s also why he loves taking walks when it rains – another way in which he so majorly differs from Louis. The brunette boy loves sunshine, which isn’t a surprise at all. It fits his lively personality and his bright smile. On sunny days, he goes outside as much as possible and just sits in the ticklish grass with his eyes closed and his head tilted backwards, soaking in the sunlight. It makes his cheekbones pop out even more than they already do. He’s got exquisite facial structure. Luke is secretly kind of jealous of him.

He dives under again, cheeks puffy with the gulp of air he took. His blue eyes are a near perfect mirror of the colour the water has, tinted light blue by the tiles. Luke always found his eyes to be the best part of his body. They’re such a brilliant blue they almost light up in the dark and, as Louis so gloriously put it into words, “they’re a mirror to your soul, Luke. It’s like I can see the ocean when I look in them”.

The sopping sound of footsteps on the permanently wet floor causes alarm bells to tinkle in Luke’s mind. He half hopes it’s Louis but he knows that he’d never have such luck. He slowly resurfaces, peeking up at the edge of the pool. The only thing he sees is a heeled shoe tapping against the floor, clearly annoyed and impatient. Slowly, he raises his gaze more and to his utter horror, he locks eyes with Mrs Robbins, the last person in the entire world he’d hoped to see. The look in her eyes is cold as stone, her arms are crossed in front of her chest and her lips are pursed into a disapproving frown. The silence between them is heavy and makes Luke feel incredibly uncomfortable. He look at her like a deer in headlights, very much aware that he’s busted and has a great chance of getting expelled. Squirming under her gaze, he hangs his head and avoids looking at her. It’s not until a few more moments of close to unbearable silence that she finally speaks up. The sharp edge to her voice and the anger she pours in it make the quiet from before very much preferable.

“Get out.”

Luke hurries to oblige. He’s out of the pool and back on his feet within seconds, the towel he brought hung over his shaking shoulders. Whether he’s trembling from the cold or from anxiety, he doesn’t know. Quite possibly a combination of both. Mrs Robbins fixes him with a harsh glare and spins around, marching to the open door. “Follow me,” she says, her voice cutting through the calming silence like a knife, making Luke flinch. He quickly grabs his clothes, putting his sweats back on his damp legs so it gets soaked, and scurries after her like a puppy with its tail between its paws. The thunderstorm behind her eyes scares Luke. She already doesn’t like him, and now he gave her an extra reason to do so even more.

The closer they come to the principal’s office, the more rapidly his heart starts hammering against his ribcage. It makes Luke feel dizzy. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs Robbins could hear it – hell, he’s kind of half expecting the entire school to come out of their dorms to see what’s making that sound.

What he doesn’t expect is for Mrs Robbins to not spare a single glance at the door to the principal’s office, but stride right past it. Luke is only a little bit relieved – a much larger part of him is still worried, because where else would Mrs Robbins be taking him after he violated the rules? But he’s too scared to ask her, so he just trails after her, looking around skittishly.

His questions still aren’t answered when she finally opens a door and steps across the threshold, waiting for Luke to follow her. They’re at the bottom of an old staircase, the coarse stone steps ready to take them up, spiralling along with the wall. Luke can’t see where they’re leading to, but he guesses this is one of the old towers of the building that’s now his school, and if it is, the end is not in sight by far. Mrs Robbins just looks at him with that same look in her eyes.

“Go,” she says, gesturing to the stairs with a nod of her head, and Luke obliges. The dark material feels cold against his bare feet and makes shivers run up and down his spine. He’s still only wearing his sweatpants, which are now just as damp as the towel on his shoulders. There’s no heater in these parts of the building because no one ever comes here anymore, so it’s not long until Luke’s entire body is covered in goosebumps, muscles tense to save as much warmth as possible. He’s pretty sure his toes will start turning purple soon, that’s how cold it is.

“Where are we going?” he finally asks, voice soft but still so loud in the empty tower, echoing off the walls. Mrs Robbins doesn’t answer, just urges him on and as she’s right behind him, he doesn’t have another choice but to obey.

Luke is a shivering mess when they finally arrive at the top, his teeth clattering and his smallest toes indeed a light shade of purple from the cold. They’re in a small room, perfectly round, without any furniture in it. The wooden flooring is so dusty they leave footprints and an icy wind cuts in from the large window, shutters open and clattering against the wall with every new gust, producing a spooky sound. It’s even colder in here than it was on the stairs, if that’s possible. Luke turns to his teacher just in time to see her lock the door with one of those old, large, copper keys. He gets more and more confused by the second.

“W-why are we h-here?” he asks, his strained jaw making it hard for him to speak. She turns her head to look at him and for a moment, her eyes flash such a bright, clear green it’s not supposed to be humanly possible. It’s so suddenly and brief, though, that Luke wonders if he saw it correctly, but he doesn’t get any time to think about it further. Mrs Robbins suddenly starts whispering (which, okay, creepy) and Luke is getting increasingly closer to freaking out. When she steps forward, he takes a step back, closer to the wall, farther away from the door. He doesn’t even register what she’s saying, too preoccupied with trying to get his jackrabbiting pulse to slow down before he gets, like, an aneurysm. But suddenly the rushing of the blood in his ears ceases and the annoying thudding of the wooden shutters against the wall dies down as well. He doesn’t feel so awfully cold anymore, but instead like a warm blanket was draped over him and he closes his eyes. He welcomes the change with open arms.

Through all the disappearing sounds, a voice comes forth, sweet and rich as honey. His mind doesn’t distinguish any individual words, but the lovely yet urgent tone seeps into Luke’s brains and makes them go all mushy, but in a pleasant way. He feels dazed, stumbling over his own feet as the precious voice keeps humming lowly. It turned from whispering into a very soft, very gentle singing and Luke gets lost in it, falling away further and deeper until he feels like he’s swimming in the sound, completely wrapped up in the warm, pure notes. The voice is telling him something. She wants him to do something, to move, walk onwards, and at this point he’d do anything for her as long as she keeps singing.

His hands touch something. It’s hard and cold under his fingertips and it startles him out of the trance just slightly. He opens his eyes in annoyance and sees that it’s the window sill he’s holding onto. It’s made out of the same stone as the rest of the room and protrudes from the wall slightly. He furrows his eyebrows, the question of what the hell he’s doing heavy and urgent on his tongue, but the lovely voice keeps singing, urging him on, and his muscles flex, but he forces his eyes to remain open. His mind is foggy but a small wave of panic still hits him when he feels how he hoists himself up onto the stone ledge. One of his legs is dangling into the air dangerously. When he looks down, Luke can barely even see the ground, concealed by darkness and distance, but it’s far, far down below.

A particularly melodic line from the voice makes his eyelids droop closed again, without a fight. His other foot is moving forward too, into the cold nocturnal air, away from the safety of the tower.

“Jump,” the voice whispers. It sounds like a promise. Luke flexes his muscles, bracing himself, shuffles a bit closer to the edge-

And then he’s yanked back into the room by a pair of strong arms. He lands onto the hardwood floor with a loud _thud_ and groans when his shoulder hits it in a wrong angle. The warmth the voice brought him dissipates as suddenly as it came, leaving him freezing and dizzy, only vague shadows of what just happened left in his memory.

Still a bit dazed, he looks up, only to see a body standing in front of him. His vision is a bit blurry and shifts in and out of focus so he can’t really see who it is, but the person is wearing a pair of dark grey sweats and has bare feet spread in a wide stance. Looking through the gap between his legs, Luke can see Mrs Robbins standing there, angrier than he’s ever seen her before. She’s baring her teeth and seems to be mere inches away from having steam come out of her ears. She snarls at the person that’s standing over Luke – _protecting_ him, he now realises – and Luke tries to move, whether to flinch away or stand up he doesn’t know, but his muscles aren’t listening anyway. His head just lulls from side to side as he blinks his eyes rapidly, trying to get them to focus. He whimpers pathetically when his attempts are proved futile and the sound infuriates the person standing over him.

“What did you do to him?” a familiar voice demands. Luke immediately recognises it as Louis’ – he’d know that sound anywhere, could pick it out from a crowd of people chattering over and through each other – and doubles his attempts to get up, but it’s still to no use.

“Go back to your dorm, mister Tomlinson,” Mrs Robbins says, but her voice doesn’t sound the same as it used to. It’s deeper, there’s a raw edge to it that Luke has never heard before and that doesn’t even sound human. Her eyes flash that shade of green again so brightly it illuminates the darkness.

Luke looks back up at Louis, but the only parts of his best friend he can see are his thighs and the hand that’s hanging by his hip, grasping something tightly. The object looks like it’s made of metal and when Luke manages to turn his head some more, he sees the large blade sticking out of Louis’ hand. It looks suspiciously much like a sword.

Louis is holding a sword. A fucking sword.

Luke must be going insane.

Louis makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat and Louis knows the facial expression that usually goes with it. It’s not a pretty one. The brunette steps forward, sword raised high, and Luke panics a little, feeling a lot less secure without Louis right next to him. But when Mrs Robbins takes a step closer too, her features start to change. She grows taller, her hair gets longer and her face changes completely. All signs of age leave her body and she looks young – beautiful. That’s kind of weird to say about your teacher, though.

Louis hisses something, a word Luke has never heard before and is pretty sure isn’t even English, and charges forward, swinging the blade forward with a skilled movement. Mrs Robbins dodges him easily and strides towards Luke, but Louis is back in between them before she could properly take a step and lunges forward once again. Their teacher staggers backwards and seems to give up, bellowing a terrifying screech before she darts out the window and literally _flies away_.

Luke isn’t entirely sure he didn’t jump out of the window and die anymore.

When he’s sure she won’t return, Louis turns back to Luke and crouches down beside him. His blue eyes are frantic as they look over Luke’s body, searching for injuries. He still doesn’t calm down when he can’t find any.

“Luke?” he asks, pushing some stray strands of hair away from his face. The blonde just binks, eyes wide and still unable to say something. Black spots dance in front of his eyes, clouding his vision and growing bigger by the second. He reaches his arm out to Louis, who greedily takes his hand in his own and starts saying something, but the sound of his voice doesn’t even reach Luke’s ears before he blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always very much appreciated! Please send me your thoughts. :)


	3. Drain all the blood and give the kids a show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! Comments are very much appreciated. :)

Luke’s eyelids feel unnaturally heavy when he wakes up – not in the way they do when you’re waking up from a deep sleep, but more like he’s fighting for consciousness. All he can hear is a soft voice, hushed yet sharp, that’s a short distance away from him. The words sound slurred to his ears and he can’t make any of them out. He’s lying on something soft, can feel the fabric against his palms and the light pressure where it’s draped over his body. His head is pounding, an ongoing pressure right underneath his temples and a sharp sting in the back of his skull. A whimper escapes his mouth involuntarily and the voice stops talking for a few moments, but continues when Luke remains lying still. Finally, after that many attempts, he manages to pry his eyes open. It’s dark, the only light coming from the bedside lamp on the other side of the room, and takes him a while to notice that he’s in his bed in his and Louis’ shared dorm room. The voice is coming from Louis, who’s sitting on the edge of his own bed, talking into his phone animatedly. He’s clearly agitated about something.

“You need to come pick us up _right now_ ,” Louis hisses into the phone. He’s pulling on his brown locks in frustration – and maybe fear – and it looks painful. “We’ve got some serious trouble here.”

That’s when it all comes rushing back to Luke; getting busted by his teacher, the circular room in the top of the tower, the icy wind cutting his skin when he sat on the window sill. Everything that happened thereafter was a blur, only some vague images of Louis and a sword against a suddenly very creepy Mrs Robbins.

Luke sits up with a jolt, the white duvet sliding down to pool at his knees from the sudden movement. He regrets it immediately when his head starts hurting that much more. Groaning, he presses his hands against the sides of his head, trying to relieve the pain at least somewhat. Louis goes quiet once more, murmuring a rushed “I gotta go, come here as fast as you can” before he hangs up and turns to Luke.

“Hey loser, you okay?” he asks, but by the concerned look in his eyes and the slight tremble to his voice, Luke knows it’s serious.

“My head hurts,” he moans, letting himself fall back on the bed and covering his eyes with his hands. “This is the worst migraine I’ve ever had.”

Louis grimaces from across the room. “I’m afraid it’s not just a migraine,” he says, voice trailing off at the end like wants to say something else but isn’t sure if he should. Luke frowns.

“What happened?” he asks, looking over at his best friend.

“What do you remember?” Louis asks back, and Luke furrows his eyebrows as he tries to remember as much as possible from the past hours.

“Everything until you were there,” he decides eventually. “It’s all a bit blurry, though. Like, I remember what happened, but it’s like I’m looking at it through a cracked glass wall and not really getting to see the whole picture clearly.”

Louis nods slowly, fingers rubbing the light scruff on his chin as he. “That makes sense, I guess,” he says after a while, blue eyes finding Luke’s. The blonde doesn’t recognise the look they carry, though he’s usually terrific at reading Louis.

“I remember you said something,” Luke blurts, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, though he doesn’t know why exactly he’s blushing. “Something that wasn’t... English.”

The last thing he expects Louis to do in that moment is laugh, yet here the brunette is, almost doubled over with the force of his giggles. Luke throws his hands up in defeat. Why is he even friends with this guy, he wonders.

“You just saw one of our teachers change into her real appearance after I tried to chop her head off with a sword, and the thing you’re freaked out about is me saying a single word in a foreign language?” he asks once his laughter has subsided enough. The blush on Luke’s cheeks darkens. “She tried to get you to commit suicide, Luke,” Louis says, the remaining sounds of mirth dying down at once. “You almost jumped out of that window.”

His voice is soft and filled to the brink with emotion and Luke’s throat suddenly feels too tight. He has trouble swallowing past the lump that’s formed there and he feels tears sting in his eyes. Unable to get himself to say something, he looks down at his hands clasped in his lap, a little ashamed even though he knows he doesn’t have to be.

“That was scary,” Louis admits. “Actually, it was very fucking terrifying and I’d very much appreciate it if you never did it again.”

“It’s not like I wanted to,” Luke bites out, the need to defend himself suddenly very prominent. He feels vulnerable under Louis’ insistent gaze. The latter shakes his head, however.

“I know, it was her fault. But still,” he says, crossing the room in a few steps to sit next to Luke on his bed. He slings an arm around Luke’s shoulder, providing his taller friend the comfort he’s craving.

“What is going on?” Luke asks, voice unsteady and hands shaking where they wrap around Louis’ waist. He’s scared, hasn’t been in a long time. At least not like this. Not in a my-life-is-in-danger-scared kind of way. He feels like a young child the way he’s pressed up against Louis, on the verge of tears and with the dark memory of what happened not even two hours ago still fresh on his mind.

“I can’t tell you. Not now, at least. I’m sorry, Luke,” Louis says. By the use of his full name, Luke can tell he’s serious. That still doesn’t put his mind at ease at all – only makes it beat against his ribs harder.

“I’ll explain later, I promise,” Louis continues. He somehow always knows exactly which words Luke needs to hear. “Just not here. It’s not safe.”

Luke can’t do anything but nod and slump against his friend’s body, even though he’s over a head taller. He’s always been able to make himself small despite his height and slim despite his broadness. It’s his defence mechanism, kind of. Make yourself look harmless and no one will bother you. It’s a terrible idea if someone does bother him, however, but it’s his instinct. He does it automatically, without thinking about it.

“It’s okay, buddy, I’m right here,” Louis murmurs into his hair while his hand rubs up and down his back gently. “How about we try and get some sleep? It’s, like, five in the morning so we’ll have to get up soon.”

Luke just nods again and cringes when his head starts hurting even more. Louis jumps up off the bed immediately, darts to the bathroom and is back by Luke’s side within seconds, two pills and a glass of water in his hands.

“Here, take these and lie down,” he says, handing them over to Luke, who swallows them eagerly. He’s _so_ tired. His mind is fuzzy from fatigue and the room is spinning slightly. Louis gently pushes him down onto his bed, pulling the covers up to his shoulders and running a hand through the blonde strands on his forehead.

“Goodnight,” he whispers when Luke’s eyes slide closed, unable to hold them open anymore. Luke doesn’t have the energy to say something back. He just lies in his bed, savouring the comfort and listening to Louis shuffling around the room for a while longer. Luke can’t really make out what he’s doing, but he hears the sound of a zipper and the creaking of their wardrobe door, along with the rustling of cloth. He doesn’t give it much thought, too drained from everything that’s happened in the past two hours.

But that is also exactly what’s keeping him from falling asleep. His mind fails to find any rest as his jumbled thoughts keep pushing forward, tumbling over each other in their haste to bother him. All kinds of questions pop up and and disappear as soon as they came. It’s driving him mad, making his headache worse despite the painkillers. Luke squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in his pillow, willing his mind to calm down. He breathes in and out deeply, evenly and controlled, and counts the time he does that for. Four seconds in, seven seconds out. It extends as he keeps it up for a while. Five in, eight out. Five in, eight out. He tries his hardest to push all other thoughts away, to only focus on his breathing, and it works, mostly. Some disturbing thoughts still flash by every now and then but he stubbornly ignores them, focuses so hard on falling asleep that he’s keeping himself awake by practically counting sheep. That must be a new record, he thinks bitterly. Louis seems to have trouble sleeping too; his breathing is too shallow and light for him to be asleep. Luke doesn’t have to guess why.

Neither of them get any sleep that night.

 

*****

 

Luke is finally, _finally_ about to doze off when a hand starts shaking his shoulder, effectively pulling him back from his slumber. He grumbles in annoyance, opening his eyes and blinking blearily.

“What?” he asks when he spots Louis’ face mere inches away from his own. The brunette puts a finger on his lips and shushes him, gesturing for him to get up. Luke simply raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on it. He silently slips out of bed and puts on the clothes Louis had apparently laid at the footboard of his bed for him, along with a duffle bag that appears to be stuffed to the brink. Luke frowns and look at his best friend, who’s typing away on his phone.

“What’s in the bag?” he asks. It takes Louis a moment to look up from his phone, finishing the message first.

“It’s your stuff,” he answers, swinging a similar bag over his shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Luke asks. Louis just nods, taking Luke’s arm and dragging him to the door.

“Yes, leaving. Come on,” he urges, stalking down the hallway to the staircases, much like Luke had done the night before. He follows his friend tentatively, the duffle bag a heavy weight on his shoulder.

“Louis, where are we going?” Luke demands, pulling on the back of the brown-haired boy’s shirt to make him stop. Louis swirls around to face him, putting his hands on his hips. He looks impatient but is clearly trying to stay calm.

“You remember what happened last night,” he states. It’s not a question, but Luke nods nonetheless.

“That’s why we can’t stay here. It’s not safe. Not anymore,” he continues, turning back around and walking on with a brisk tempo. Luke has no choice but to follow him, almost tripping over his own feet when he does.

He doesn’t know what time it is, but it has to be early. There’s no students walking around yet and he’s only seen a handful of teachers. None of them seem to have spotted the two boys sneaking through the corridors. Luke tries to not look too suspicious, keeps his eyes on Louis’ back and avoids the risk of looking at teachers.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the entrance hall. It’s huge, spacious with a high ceiling. Nice decorations litter the walls and the simple furniture, everything in the colours of the school’s logo; red and black. Luke sees those colours so often he’s come to hate the combination. One of the high entrance doors is open, streaks of sunlight illuminating the rough stone floor. He can smell the freshly mown grass of the lawn and a lukewarm summer breeze fiddles with the fabric of his sweater.

“I want to know what’s going on,” Luke says. Louis turns to him, a troubled look in his eyes.

“Luke, I told you-” he starts saying, but the blonde cuts him off.

“I’m not running away for no reason,” he whisper-shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You’re dragging me off to God-knows-where without giving me an explanation or even a remotely good reason to go with you!”

“I think a psychotic, hypnotising teacher is a well enough reason,” Louis says calmly. Luke immediately feels bad, but Louis continues before he has the chance to say something. “I’ll explain everything in a few minutes but we _have_ to get out of here first.”

Luke sighs deeply, running his hands over his face. “We can’t just run away. We’re going to be in so much trouble when they find us.”

“It’s not like we’re skipping class,” Louis snorts. “They’re not going to come after us and even if they do, we’ll be long gone before they even notice we’re not in class.”

Luke hesitates, glancing over his shoulder to the main hallway, where the cafeteria and some classrooms are situated. Louis puts a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“I need you to trust me,” he says. Luke swallows; of course he trusts Louis, more than anything. It’s just, he’s scared, because he almost died last night when his teacher attacked him and now Louis, who is usually so cool and not easily intimidated, is all twitchy and nervous and it’s only putting Luke more on edge. His anxiety is kicking in and he’d prefer to just bury himself under the covers of his bed and not re-emerge for a long time.

“I trust you,” he says, because it’s true and Louis should know that. The brunette nods.

“Good. Will you please come with me then?” he asks, pleading with his eyes, and Luke couldn’t have said no if he wanted to. So he hoists his duffle bag higher up his shoulder. The “Let’s go” he says comes out a bit more shakily than he’d hoped, but Louis is polite enough to ignore it and they cross the hall, half walking, half running to the door. Just when one of Luke’s feet steps across the threshold, touching the clinker bricks of the path leading through the school’s grounds, a voice behind them calls out.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” a man asks. The two boys spin around, alarmed. Luke doesn’t know the name to match his face, but he recognises him as one of the teachers he’s never had classes from. “You’re not allowed to leave the building at this time of the day. Come back in here!”

Luke tightens his grip on the strap of the duffle bag. “Maybe we should,” he tells Louis quietly, biting his lip. Louis shakes his head and speeds up his pace, but Luke stops walking completely, even takes a step backwards, toward the school, so Louis stops too.

“This is a bad idea,” Luke says, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. “We’re busted, we should go back.”

“No fucking way in Hell,” Louis says, grabbing Luke’s elbow and dragging him along. Luke stumbles more than a few times and has trouble staying upright in the fast pace Louis has set. “They’re going to kill me if I leave you behind. Hell, _I’m_ gonna kill me if I do. We _have_ to go, Luke. You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t fucking understand,” Luke bites, “because you won’t explain anything to me! And who are ‘they’?”

He tries to pry his arm from Louis’ hand, but the boy has got a tight grip on him. Much stronger than Luke would’ve given him credit for.

“I will in a minute, just go before that guy gets us,” Louis presses, speeding up his pace even more and dragging Luke along effortlessly despite the younger boy’s struggles. The teacher that called them back is coming after them now and Louis starts pulling at Luke’s arm frantically, pushing the taller boy in front of him to protect him as if he isn’t two heads shorter. Luke can hear the breath of relief Louis lets out when they rush into another street, though he doesn’t know why until Louis opens the trunk of one of the cars parked along the sidewalk and chucks his bag in. The blonde mimics his actions without giving it much thought and Louis suddenly grabs his arm again, opening the door of the car and pushing Luke in. He’s in the backseat, the leather upholstery smooth under his fingers. There is someone else in the driver’s seat. Luke doesn’t recognise him, but he’s got a couple days’ worth of scruff on his chin and his uncovered biceps are bulging as he grips the steering wheel. He turns around when Louis closes the car door.

“You must be Luke,” he says, extending a hand. He’s got light brown puppydog eyes and a gentle smile. Luke shakes it warily and nods. He hears Louis close the trunk and then the brunette is in the car as well, in the passenger’s seat.

“Hey, Tommo,” the driver says, enveloping Louis in an awkward, sideways hug the smaller boy returns instantly.

“Hey, Liam. It’s good to see you again,” Louis says, buckling up. “But we really need to go, right now.”

The guy – Liam – nods and starts the car, rushing out of his parking spot just as the teacher rounds the corner, looking very pissed off. Louis lets out a nervous yet relieved giggle once he’s out of sight.

“Man, that was an adventure,” he sighs. Liam raises an eyebrow but doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now?” he asks. Luke makes a small displeased sound.

“You owe me an explanation too,” he says quietly, because there’s a new face and though Louis seems to know him very well, Luke doesn’t and it’s making him even more nervous than he already is. Louis seems to realise, as he always does. He extends a hand to the back of the car for Luke to hold on to. It’s just as clammy as his own.

“It was Peitho,” Louis says. The word means nothing to Luke, he has no idea what it means, but Liam seems to recognise it. His head jerks to the side, eyes drilling holes in Louis’ skin.

“What?!” he squeaks, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The car strays to the side of the road until Liam redirects his gaze out of the window and steers it back to the middle. “Peitho was there? At the school?”

“Disguised as a teacher,” Louis nods, nose scrunching up in disgust. “She was after Luke.”

“Obviously,” Liam mutters, and okay, Luke is feeling really left out right now. He even forgets to be shy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, cringing away as soon as the words leave his mouth. Louis sighs and gives his hand a squeeze.

“You know that Greek word I said? When we were up in the tower?” he asks. Luke nods warily. “I said Peitho. It’s her name. Her real name.”

“What did she call herself?” Liam interrupts. He keeps his eyes fixated on the road as they rush along. They’re driving so fast that the trees they’re passing are reduced to a blur. They’re definitely going faster than the speed limit allows them to.

“Robbins,” Louis answers. Liam snickers.

“Original,” he comments. Luke decides Liam isn’t so bad.

“She’s... powerful,” Louis says when he turns back to Luke, obviously choosing his words carefully.

“Yeah I guessed so, seeing as she almost made me jump out of a window,” he mutters. Louis sighs, but Liam seems more captivated by Luke’s words. Probably because it’s his first time hearing the story.

“What?” he squeaks, again, though he does remember to keep his eyes on the road this time. Louis waves it off, though there’s a certain emotion behind his eyes.

“Later,” he says, distractedly. “Do you want to know how she was able to do that?” he asks Luke then. The blond boy nods.

“She’s the goddess of persuasion,” Louis says, face stoic and earnest. Luke just raises an eyebrow.

“Right,” he says, “I kind of figured something like that. But it’s not like she talked me into doing it.”

Louis shakes his head before he’s even finished his sentence, however. “No, I meant it literally. She’s a _goddess_. The goddess of persuasion and seduction, to be precise.”

Luke stares at him for a solid two minutes before he groans and closes his eyes, annoyed. “Okay, fine, then don’t tell me,” he grumbles, pulling his hand out of Louis’ to cross his arms in front of his chest and making himself as comfortable as possible in a car. He hears Louis sigh, maybe a bit sadly.

“You’ll understand later,” he says, so softly it’s barely audible over the roar of the engine. Luke squeezes his eyes closed so tightly he sees stars. That’s exactly what his mum said to him when she sent him off to the boarding school when he absolutely didn’t want to. He hated it at that moment, didn’t understand why she would do that. Now, almost a year later, he’s glad she did. He wouldn’t have met Louis if she hadn’t. He understands now.

Sadly, what Louis is saying isn’t true, so how will he ever be able to understand that?


	4. Be strong and hold my hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long af lmao. Hope you enjoy!  
> Trigger warning for panic attack. It's not too graphic, though, but still - please be careful.

Luke manages to fall asleep in the car to the humming of the engine and the soft murmuring of the conversation Liam and Louis are having. They’re old friends, apparently. Louis never talked much about the friend he has outside of the school. He sure is glad to see him again, though, and from the looks of it, Liam is just as excited. They have a lot to catch up on, and Luke doesn’t want to listen in, even if he is still pissed off at Louis, so he closes his eyes and lays his head against the window, focusing on the other sounds to drown out their conversation, and falls asleep eventually.

When he wakes up, he has no idea how long they had been driving, but the car is slowing down, so they must be almost there. They’re in a forest Luke doesn’t recognise, driving on a muddy path he’s not sure is made for cars. Louis and Liam are quiet, probably so they wouldn’t wake up Luke. But as soon as Louis notices Luke has come back from dreamland, he grins and turns around as best as he can to face the blonde.

“’Morning, Sunshine,” he grins, eyes wrinkling at the edges. Louis’ smile is always so bright it almost has the ability to cast light. Luke flips him off.

“Are we almost there?” he asks, voice rough with sleep. Louis nods.

“Almost,” he parrots, flicking his fringe out of his eyes. “Just a little walk and we’re there.”

Liam parks the car in a seemingly random spot, in the middle of the trees and on earthy soil. It’s definitely not a parking lot, but in between the large trees Luke can see several other vehicles parked in the area. Liam turns off the engine but makes no move to get out.

“Before we go in, there’s something you need to know,” he says, and Luke can see the way Louis furrows his eyebrows in concern.

“What is it?” the brunette asks, and Liam sighs, twirling the car keys around his index finger.

“Something happened,” he says, voice trailing off as he attempts to find the right words to say. “Some people went on a quest. Overseas, so they took one of the ships.” Liam swallows, the wrinkles in his forehead returning when he frowns. “But they never came back.”

The words have a bigger impact on Louis than they have on Luke. Of course he knows what they mean, he understands what Liam is saying – mostly, that is. He has no idea what the ‘quest’ is – but it doesn’t do anything to him personally. He didn’t know those people. Louis did, probably. His best friend swallows as well, fixing his hair though there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s his nervous habit.

“Who?” he asks when he regained his voice. He tries not to let it show, but Luke can see through him, can see how his hands keep moving, desperate for something to do, as a distraction, can see how Louis keeps licking and biting his lower lip, to the point it’s all dark pink and raw. Luke subtly puts a hand on his shoulder and he feels Louis lean into the touch slightly.

“Robin,” Liam answers, and Louis sighs. It sounds partially relieved, but also like the single word punched the air out of his lungs. “And some of his friends.”

“He was the head counselor of his Cabin, right?” Louis asks. Luke tries his hardest to keep up with the conversation but he just doesn’t understand half the vocabulary they use.

Liam nods. “They chose a new one yesterday.”

“What happened?” Louis wonders out loud. Liam shrugs.

“Nobody really knows exactly, but the ship sunk. They were in the middle of the ocean. No one made it back to the shore,” he answers. His brown puppy-eyes are sad, but in a sympathetic kind of way, not one of personal hurt. He wasn’t close with those people. “There’s pictures all over the Camp. Just thought you should be prepared,” Liam finishes. Louis nods, mouths “Thank you” and exits the car. Luke follows.

“Camp?” he asks after he’s slammed the car door closed behind himself. Louis eyes him for a moment before nodding.

“Camp,” he repeats. Luke barely resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“You brought me to a camp?” he asks, unable to completely cover up the disapproval in his voice. Louis huffs out a laugh.

“Not just ‘a camp’,” he argues, opening the trunk and flinging Luke’s duffle bag at him. The blonde can only just grab it before it hits his face. His frown deepens, if that’s even possible.

“You’ve left me in the dark the entire time,” he whines, dragging out the words a little more than necessary. “Can you at least tell me where the fuck we are?”

“Language, Luke, I didn’t raise you like that,” Louis says in his posh British accent. It makes it sound even more like he’s being parented. “And I _tried_ to tell you earlier. You just wouldn’t listen.”

Now Luke really does roll his eyes, throwing his hands up exasperatedly. “You were telling me seven different shades of bullshit. With a capital B, actually. Why won’t you just tell me the truth?”

Louis makes a face and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about something like that,” he says, voice soft and earnest, but Luke is too tired and confused to pay any mind to such details. He just snorts and crosses his arms in front of his chest, this close to pouting because everything is just _so unfair_ right now.

“Well, you did,” he bites, “and I’m tired of not knowing what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.”

Liam steps in between them to make them stop arguing. Bless him, really.

“We’ll have someone else explain everything to you when we get to the Camp, okay?” he offers, looking at Luke with his soft, light brown eyes, and the blonde deflates, nodding sheepishly. Liam smiles.

“Good. Let’s go,” he says, and he starts making his way over the brown leaves that have fallen to the ground. They crackle and crumble under their feet as Louis and Luke follow him.

“Sorry,” Luke mumbles. He doesn’t emphasize what he’s apologising for, but Louis knows. He always does. He tries to bump his shoulder to Luke’s, but the blonde is too tall and ends up taking a shoulder to his ribcage.

“’S fine,” Louis promises, “you’re always grumpy in the mornings.”

Luke laughs, because he knows it’s true. “It’s in the afternoon now, though,” he says. Louis shoves his shoulder, using his hands this time. Luke stumbles a little. His legs are too long for his own good.

“I mean when you wake up,” Louis emphasizes. “You’re forgiven.”

They walk in silence for a while, the wind rustling the leafs on the trees, until they’re suddenly in front of a gate. Luke doesn’t see it until they’re standing right in front of it, too caught up in his own thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings. It’s a large, double gate, with ‘Camp Half-Blood’ written on it in big, bold letters. Luke shudders involuntarily when he reads it. It sounds scary.

“We’ll take you to the infirmary first,” Louis says, completely unbothered by the intimidating name on the ironwork. Luke is kind of frightened by the use of the words ‘half’ and ‘blood’ in a combination.

“Why would I need to go to the infirmary?” Luke questions, trailing after his friends – if he could call Liam that already – nervously. “I’m not injured.”

“You fainted,” Louis says in a matter-of-fact-way that makes Luke feel like he’s being lectured. “We just need to get you checked to make sure you’re okay.”

The gate to Camp Half-Blood leads them onto a path – an actual, built road, unlike the mud and soil they just clambered through. It swerves in different directions, to the different locations of the Camp, Luke guesses. He’s sure he would get lost if he tried to find his way himself, but Louis and Liam seem to know the place like the back of their hand so he just trails after them like a lost puppy. The infirmary turns out to be a large, tent-like building – although a lot more solid – with beds on either side and a lot of people rushing back and forth, in and out. Some of the beds are occupied. There’s people with what looks like a simple fever, but also people with nasty-looking injuries, blood caking the bandages on their limbs and sometimes even staining the duvets. Luke suddenly feels light-headed. He grabs Louis’ upper arm, squeezing tightly without even realising. Louis doesn’t pay him much mind, though, just pushes him down on one of the beds and then strolls off to get someone. Liam stays by his bedside. Noticing his distress, the brown-haired boy puts a hand on his knee and gives it a comforting squeeze.

“Calm down, buddy, you’re doing great,” he says, low enough for Luke to be the only one to hear it. The blonde nods gratefully, though he’s still not completely convinced.

“Why is it called Camp Half-Blood?” he asks, voice trembling slightly. He’s never been good at covering it up. Liam just smiles gently, his hand a warm pressure on Luke’s knee.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says, referring back to when they were in the car, when Louis tried to explain about Mrs Robbins – or Peitho, as he called her. Luke smirks half-heartedly.

“Try me,” he counters. Liam barks out a laugh. He keeps reminding Luke more and more of a puppy.

“You did _not_ just quote Narnia,” he grinned. Luke just shrugged, only blushing a little bit when Liam continued laughing.

“Cool,” Liam says after he’s regained control of himself. “Okay, so, the reason this place is called Camp Half-Blood is because this is literally a camp for half-bloods.”

Luke quirks an eyebrow. “Half-bloods how? Like in Harry Potter?” he asks. Liam snorts, but it doesn’t sound judgmental.

“Kind of, yeah. Except wizards don’t exist,” he replies, winking when the colour of Luke’s cheeks deepens once again. He’s always been an easy blusher. It’s a nightmare, honestly.

“You remember what Louis said in the car? About your teacher being a goddess?” Liam asks, clearly going for the soft approach if his gentle voice and the patience in his eyes are anything to go by. Luke nods apprehensively.

“He wasn’t lying,” Liam continues, almost carefully, and Luke just furrows his eyebrows because he doesn’t know how else to respond. Liam carries on with his explanation, luckily.

“Gods and goddesses sometimes come down to Earth to... interact with humans, though,” Liam says, and now it’s Luke’s time to short, because this story is all sorts of ridiculous.

“Right, of course. Come down from where, anyway?” he huffs, picking at a loose thread on a rip in his skinny jeans.

“Olympus,” Liam answers, like that should be obvious. “And they have children with humans. That’s how half-bloods are born. They’re part god, part human. Demigods. And we come to this Camp because we’re different from humans or gods. We have other purposes, other destinies for our lives, and we can’t learn the things we need to know at a human school.”

Luke rolls his eyes, scooting away from Liam with a frown. “’Course,” he mutters, pressing his back against the headboard of the bed. He tries his hardest to ignore the ‘we’ that Liam said.

Louis picks that moment to come back with a girl in tow. She has long, light-brown hair that she wears in a ponytail and blue eyes that match the shade of Louis’ perfectly.

“This is my sister, Veerle,” Louis introduces her. “Veerle, this is Luke.”

She smiles at him and extends her hand, which he shakes after a moment. “Hi. I’m just going to check if you have any brain damage, okay?” she asks. Luke nods his approval. Veerle then grabs a tiny flashlight from seemingly out of nowhere – probably her back pocket, though – and turns it on. The light hurts his eyes when she point it to him and he fights to keep them open. Veerle looks satisfied when she turns the light back off.

“No signs of any damage,” she says cheerfully. “I’m gonna need you to take your clothes off now. You know, further examination.”

Luke hesitates, staring at her incredulously. Louis splutters at the other end of the bed, tripping over his words in his haste to spit them out.

“No you don’t!” he almost yells, pulling Veerle away from the bed by her arm. She starts laughing hysterically when he pushes her towards the exit. “You don’t need to see _any_ guy naked _at all_. Now go back to your Cabin, young lady.”

Veerle huffs, still laughing. It sounds kind of weird. “Shut up, I’m not that much younger than you,” she bites back playfully, but listens to Louis anyway, exiting the infirmary. Louis is still grumbling about his little sister when he helps Luke get up from the bed.

“Okay, let’s go see Chiron. He’ll want to meet you,” he says, distractedly staring at the spot Veerle went off to.

“Who’s Chiron?” Luke asks. It shakes Louis from his protective-big-brother-trance and he turns back to the blonde.

“He’s the leader of the Camp. Well, kind of. Under Dionysus. But Mr D doesn’t care anyway, so Chiron basically runs the place,” Louis answers. Luke’s eyebrows almost touch his hairline with how much he’s raising them.

“Dionysus? As in the Greek god?” Luke clarifies, and Louis slaps him on the back amiably as he hums his confirmation.

“The one and only,” he replies, keeping his hand on Luke’s back to guide him across the Camp grounds. Liam takes a different turn, saying he’s going to meet up with Zayn – whoever that may be – and says he’ll see them later.

They arrive at a wooden cabin after not too long. It look nice altogether – there’s some pictures of landscapes on the walls and a bouquet of flowers is standing in a vase on a side table in one of the corners. There’s a desk in the middle of the room with a man sitting behind it. It looks like a reception, an office and a study at the same time. The man behind the desk looks up when they come in. He has a beard and wavy brown hair that reaches his shoulders. He looks stern, with the wrinkles in his forehead and the way his fingers tap on the wood of the desk, but it falls apart when his face breaks into a smile when his eyes settle on Louis.

“Louis,” he says warmly before wheeling himself around the wooden furniture – Luke only now notices that he’s in a wheelchair. Louis smiles back at him just as brightly.

“Hello, Chiron. Good to see you again,” he says, shaking the calloused hand the man – Chiron – offers him.

“It’s good to have you back,” Chiron says, patting him on the shoulder a few times. Louis chuckles.

“It’s good to be back,” he answers, pushing Luke forward a little. “Chiron, I’d like you to meet Luke. He’s a good friend of mine.”

Luke takes a forced step forward and attempts a smile. He’s met too many new people in a short period of time, it’s a bit overwhelming. Louis senses he’s uncomfortable and thankfully keeps his hand on Luke’s lower back when Chiron directs his attention to the blonde.

“Ah, hello, Luke. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Chiron says, shaking Luke’s hand enthusiastically. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! My name is Chiron.”

Luke nods at him and manages a small smile. “Thank you,” he mumbles. Louis’ arm rubs up and down his back a little.

“Luke is a bit shy,” he explains. “And it’s been a long day for all of us.”

Chiron nods and rolls his wheelchair back a couple of feet. “Very well. Okay, Luke, Louis will show you to your Cabin. There’s a campfire tonight – like every night – so there’s a chance your father will claim you. Any questions?”

Luke’s mind is overflowing with questions at the moment. He can’t string a coherent thought together with all the confusing information flooding his brain at once, so he settles for a simple and short, “What?”

Louis bites his lip to hold his laugh back and Luke would have punched him had he not been so incredibly confused about, well, everything. Chiron simply raises an eyebrow and folds his hands together in his lap. Luke scrapes his throat, cheeks flushing a little.

“I mean, what- what is this place?” he asks, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. Even Louis’ presence can’t calm him down right now. Chiron’s eyebrows reach even higher.

“This is Camp Half-Blood. All Demigods come here to train and learn how to use and develop their skills,” he replies. Luke gnaws at his bottom lip.

“Demigods?” he wonders in a small voice. Chiron’s gaze shift from Luke to Louis for a moment, who shrugs a bit, before they drift back to Luke.

“Demigods,” he repeats, confirms. “Half human, half god.”

“I know what Demigods are,” Luke blurts. His head is starting to hurt. “I mean, I didn’t think they were- they were real.”

Chiron chuckles lowly, but not in a mocking way. “Oh, they are very real. In fact, you’re one of them, Luke,” he says. Luke’s eyes widen, mouth parting slightly. His lips are chapped and bitten raw, close to bleeding.

“Me?” he asks eventually, unconvinced. He shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

Chiron stares at him for a few moments, long and hard, and then suddenly pushes the blanket away that he’d draped over his legs – and stands up.

Luke’s eyes almost pop out of his skull when he sees the horse legs stepping out of the rather spacious wheelchair gracefully. He jumps back, stumbling over his own feet – damn his legs, seriously – and crashing into the wall with his shoulder. It was still sore from when he fell to the floor in the tower so he whimpers when the bruise comes in contact with the hardwood wall. Louis is by his side immediately, but the hand on his arm is of no comfort at all.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks, trying to push his body through the wall, away from the... whatever it is that’s in front of him. Louis’ hand on him becomes more urgent, grabbing at him and pinning him to the wall to try and get him to calm down.

“It’s okay,” he says, voice gentle and smooth. His hands are soft on Luke’s skin but still feel like they’re burning him. Luke is panicking, clawing at the wood underneath his palms and taking superficial breaths, no oxygen really reaching his lungs. Louis takes a hold of him and forces him to sit down on the floor, back pressed against the wall and head in between Louis’ hands. His pinkie fingers rub circles into the skin behind Luke’s ear and his mouth is whispering reassurances, sweet nothings, calming words. They work, after a while. Luke’s panicked breathing slows down and his lungs fill themselves with air. The spinning of his head ceases slowly but surely and his limbs stop shaking. He drops his head back, exhausted. It drops against the wall with a low _thud_ but he barely even notices. The tears in the corner of his eyes dissipate and his vision clears up.

Worry shines in Louis’ blue orbs when Luke’s own ones align with them. “You okay?” the brunette asks. Luke only has the strength to nod weakly.

The dull _tump-tump-tump_ of hooves brings Luke back to the present and he fearfully stares over Louis’ shoulder to the beastly legs that connect to the human trunk. Chiron’s face is still that mixture of sternness and calm friendliness. Luke breathes out shakily.

“What-” he starts asking, fisting the fabric of Louis’ shirt just to have something to hold on to that he can’t hurt by squeezing too tightly. Louis cuts him off, knowing Luke doesn’t actually want to speak after having a panic attack.

“Chiron is a Centaur,” he says softly, but loudly enough for the older man to hear it as well. Luke starts trembling again. He feels like a small child again and he hates that feeling.

“Aren’t Centaurs supposed to be evil?” he asks. Louis chuckles half-heartedly.

“Yeah, I guess. Chiron is a good one, though. You really need to catch up on your mythology,” he says. Luke doesn’t acknowledge the joke, but just nods.

“Okay,” he whispers, still shaking when Louis helps him stand up. He finally sees the ancient wisdom behind Chiron’s eyes and relaxes just a little.

“Do you believe me now?” the Centaur teases, but his face shows empathy so Luke doesn’t take offence. He simply nods, star-struck, and tries to subtly stare at the creature. Mythology has always interested him, he’d just never thought he’d see a mythical creature in person, up close. In _reality._ It’s a lot to take in, on top of everything he’s been through in the past couple of hours. Chiron nods too and gestures to the door.

“Louis will take you to the Hermes Cabin now. You’ll be staying there until your father claims you – if he does. Ask him any questions you have and don’t hesitate to come to me either.” He smiles warmly at Luke. “I will see you around.”

Luke hums an agreement and then he’s being dragged out of the building by Louis. They walk down the path to the Cabins side by side. Luke is still coming down from his panic attack, the dizziness and trembling not completely faded yet. Louis remains quiet to not startle him even worse, but now that Luke knows, he wants more answers than the shallow ones Chiron just gave him.

“Are you a Demigod too?” he asks. Louis looks up at him, blue eyes shining brilliantly. He’s clearly at home in this place.

“Yes,” he says easily, like it’s not a big deal at all. Luke hopes he can get used to it too. “I’m a son of Apollo. God of the sun, medicine, music. Some other things too, but those have died out in time.”

“Sounds impressive,” Luke mutters. Louis shrugs. Luke knows he can read the heavier meaning behind the words, can sense the insecurity the blonde has fallen back into.

“It’s not a big deal. There’s quite a lot of us here,” he says, kicking a stray pebble forward. “Apollo is just a regular god. Just as powerful as most of the others. The Big Three are the ones that gain all the attention.”

Luke looks at him with a questioning gaze. “The Big Three?”

Louis nods. “Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. The three most powerful gods to ever exist. Sky, sea and death.” He kicks the pebble again. It rolls forward a few metres before it bumps into a shoe and still. The shoe is attached to a person. A not so friendly looking person, actually. Luke so can’t deal with this right now.

The person is male and looks like he’s a couple of years older than Luke. He’s not as tall as the blonde, but way better built – broad shoulders, defined arm muscles, slim waist. He’s so muscled his shirt is clinging to his chest tightly, displaying his toned stomach even through the material. His black hair is styled up in a half quiff and a few days’ worth of scruff dusts his chin. He’s scowling, his light grey eyes trained on Luke, making the blonde boy squirm. Louis isn’t the slightest bit intimidated by him, though – which Luke should’ve expected, really. He probably knows everyone here – and smiles, stepping forward.

“Derek,” he says, pulling the taller man in a one-armed hug, slapping his back a few times. Derek hugs him back.

“Louis, nice to see you again,” he says, looking over the top of his head to where Luke is still standing. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Luke,” Louis says, extending his hand to the lanky blonde as a sign for him to come forward. Luke takes the hand when he goes to stand beside Louis. “He’s new here.”

Derek nods at him, not making any move to introduce himself properly. Luke shifts on his feet awkwardly.

“I should get going,” he says, walking around the pair and throwing a “See you” over his shoulder. Luke slumps against Louis as soon as he’s out of hearing distance, somehow managing to make himself small enough to fit under his best friend’s arm.

“Who is he exactly?” he asks. Louis ruffles his hair a little.

“He’s a supervisor, kind of. His entire family died in a house fire when he was ten. He came to the Camp and never left, though people usually leave when they turn eighteen, nineteen, twenty, sometimes. He just got upgraded from being a pupil to helping the pupils.”

“What god is he a son of?” Luke wants to know. Louis smiles.

“Nice to see you curious instead of scared. He’s a son of Artemis, goddess of the hunt, moon, wild animals, you know. Twin sister of Apollo.” He grins almost wickedly. “We’re family, in a weird way.”

“Hmm,” Luke hums. He’s starting to get really tired, most of the energy he had left drained by the panic attack. He’s running on maybe an hour sleep for the better part of a day and it’s finally taking its toll on him.

Luckily, they reach the cabins at last. Before Louis has the chance to take him to the Hermes Cabin, the brunette gets attacked, kind of. A boy literally jumps on him, wrapping his limbs around Louis’ body and burying his face in the crook of his neck. He’s got long, dark brown hair that’s curling at the edges. It looks a bit like the manes of a lion; almost majestic. He’s a good couple of inches taller than Louis, but the smaller boy manages to stay upright with the boy around him, smiling like a madman. Louis doesn’t even seem fazed.

“I missed you,” he just murmurs as he buries his face in the boy’s mop of hair. Luke feels like he’s intruding in a very private moment and quickly averts his gaze. When he’s sure Louis has forgotten all about him, too preoccupied with the boy wrapped around his waist, Liam shows up out of nowhere. Luke could cry from relief. Luckily he doesn’t. Shaking his head at the two boys tangled up in each other, Liam turns to Luke.

“Sorry about them. I wish I could say they’re usually not this bad, but, they are. The kid is Harry, by the way. Louis’ boyfriend,” he informs the blonde. Luke’s mouth forms an ‘o’, eyebrows furrowing. Louis never told him he had a boyfriend.

“Come on, I’ll show you the Hermes Cabin,” Liam says, pulling him from his thoughts, and Luke nods gratefully, following Liam as he starts walking across the feet. They pass several Cabins, all of them designed to the god or goddess they’re dedicated to. The Hermes’ Cabin is almost disappointingly plain, with chipped brown paint and a single caduceus above the door. A lot of people are hanging out around the building, their ages varying from what Luke thinks is about thirteen to more his age and a bit older. Only one boy looks up when they approach. His curly mop of caramel-coloured hair stands out from the rest. He has friendly-looking hazel eyes with a green edge to them and his smile is so bright Luke is honestly surprised he isn’t related to the god of the sun, carving dimples in his cheeks and wrinkling the skin around his eyes. He’s slightly smaller than Luke – who isn’t? – but he’s so radiant it’s barely even noticeable.

“Hello, you must be Luke,” he grins, wrapping Luke up in a full-body hug immediately. The blonde is a bit taken aback, but hugs back nonetheless. It feels nice. “I’m Ashton, head counselor of the Hermes Cabin,” the boys says when he pulls back. Luke smiles at him, his mood lifted significantly by Ashton’s entire being.

“You look tired,” the curly-haired boy muses, ushering Luke up the small set of stairs that lead to the Cabin’s door. “Let me show you your bed. You can still get a bit of sleep before dinner.”

Luke can only just wave a short goodbye to Liam before Ashton shuts the door behind him, dragging him through the maze of improvised beds. The place is a mess, overly full even though it’s quite large. Ashton finds him a vacant bed – Luke suspects through a miracle – and he instantly lets himself fall on it, burying his face in the pillow and letting out a tired sigh. Ashton giggles – fucking _giggles_ – behind him. Luke can hear his retreating footsteps on the wooden floor.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner,” Ashton promises, and Luke only barely has the time to mumble “Thank you” before his eyes close and he dozes off, already asleep before Ashton is even out the door.


	5. I’ll remember your eyes when you’re gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took me so long.

Luke is woken up from his nap by a large hand shaking his shoulder gently. He yawns as he pushes himself up from his mattress, only to lock eyes with Ashton. It’s the hazel colour of them, contrary to Louis’ light shade of blue that startles him rather than the actual presence of the boy. Ashton has this calming aura around him; he’s well put-together and knows the meaning of personal space, which Luke appreciates. He’s almost the opposite of Louis – tall, broad, gentle – and doesn’t tease Luke about being tired like Louis would have done.

“Quite overwhelming, isn’t it?” he said, smiling softly at Luke. “I remember when I first came here. It was a lot to take in all at once. You’ll get used to it.”

He pats Luke’s blanket-covered knee and extends his hand for Luke to take, pulling him up onto his feet swiftly.

“Is it time for dinner?” the blonde asks, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Ashton nods and starts walking towards the door, the chirpy “Follow me!” he belts out making the other kids in the cabin turn their heads towards him. Luke is even more grateful than before that Ashton gave him a bed at the back of the cabin, out of view from the people in the front.

The temperature outside is still quite nice, cooler than before, of course, but still pleasantly lukewarm. Ashton leads Luke to one of the picnic tables on the large field. A few people are already sitting there and Luke knows only two of them; Louis and Liam. He also recognises the boy with the long, curly hair who apparently is Louis’ boyfriend and whose name he can’t remember. They’re sitting next to each other, almost in each other’s laps, and Luke can see from here that their hands are entwined under the table. Louis has never been one to be subtle. He grins when Luke sits down across from him. Both his sides are already taken – one by Harry and the other by a blonde guy Luke hasn’t met yet.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” the brunette teases, softly kicking Luke’s leg under the table. Luke scoffs and flips him off. To his surprise, the blonde sitting next to Louis laughs loudly.

“Feisty, this one, eh?” he says, thick Irish accent making it harder for Luke to understand. Louis grins and casually takes a sip of his water.

“I raised him well,” he replies, grinning smugly when the blond Irishman next to him cracks up completely, his loud laugh carrying over the entire campus. Luke feels a bit second-handed embarrassment, but the others don’t seem to be bothered by it. One of them shoots him a questioning glance, but there’s barely-concealed amusement underneath it, the edges of his mouth curled upwards slightly. He’s tanned, with thick, black hair messily framing his face. His cheekbones are glorious – even better than Louis’, if Luke is being honest – and he has dark brown eyes, whose colour hold the middle between his skin tone and his hair colour, and extremely long lashes. He looks exotic, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and a bit of scruff dusting it, giving him a mature look.

“Luke, this is Niall,” Louis interrupts his little staring daze, clapping the Irish kid on the shoulder. “And Niall, this is Luke.”

The boy – Niall – grins and extends his hand to Luke across the table, almost knocking over multiple glasses of water, which earns him some loud hisses of “Watch out!”. He doesn’t even seem to hear.

“Good to meet ya, mate. Louis’s told us a lot ‘bout ya,” Niall says, a bit too loudly for Luke’s liking. He smiles back politely, however, despite the harsh pounding of his heart against his ribcage caused by all the attention on him. He can feel strangers’ eyes burning into his back, watching him. It makes him squirm. Luckily for him, Louis notices.

“So, Luke, this is Zayn,” he says, gesturing to the black-haired guy Luke had been staring at. Zayn lifts his gaze from the book he’d been reading to smile at Luke briefly but genuinely. Luke manages a smile back. Then Louis snakes an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and pulls him closer, kissing his lips. They pull away with a smug grin a few seconds later, earning some hollering and some pieces of food thrown at them. Luke mouths a silent “Thank you” at him when the others have stopped looking. Louis just winks at him and tangles his fingers with Harry’s once again.

“And this is Harry,” he says, soft enough to leave others out of the conversation but loud enough for Luke to hear. The blonde smiles, shaking Harry’s hand as well.

“It’s great to meet you,” he says, words accompanied by a nice British accent and a deep, raspy voice. His smile is just wide enough for a dimple to show, green eyes twinkling with warmth. Luke likes him already.

Veerle is at the table too, having conquered the spot next to Niall. She wiggles her eyebrows at Luke when their eyes meet and the blonde lets out a chuckle. He likes her, too. She reminds him of Louis already – he can tell they’re siblings, probably would’ve guessed it if they hadn’t told him already.

The food is good. It’s simple and familiar, something he could’ve eaten back at home. It makes him feel a little bit more at ease. Louis’ friends help with that, too. They’re nice, include him in their conversations but make sure not to keep their eyes on him for too long, not pushing him when his voice is soft and his answers are short. He suspects Louis has told them how he’s uncomfortable with that.

It’s not until they’ve finished dinner and are getting ready to huddle around the campfire that the last person of Louis’ little clique arrives. It’s a girl, with gorgeous, gold-looking hair and deep blue eyes. She’s pretty, Luke has to admit. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but when Veerle went up to her immediately and she got talking with Louis after only a few seconds, he figured it out.

“Oi, Lucas,” the brunette says after a while, dragging the girl over to him. “I want you to meet Zoey.”

Luke smiles and extends his hand to her, which she shakes.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, smiling when Luke mumbles a “Ditto”. The setting sun casts warm light on her blonde locks and makes them shine prettily.

“What god are you from?” Zoey asks. Luke shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

“I don’t know,” he answers, “I’ve only been here for, like, a few hours.”

Zoey nods, turning to Louis. “Any theories?” she asks, eyes sparkling with held-back laughter. The edges of Louis’ mouth curl upwards slightly, too, but it doesn’t look like he’s smiling genuinely.

“I have an idea of who it could be, yeah,” he mumbles, immediately changing the subject before Zoey has the chance to push it further. “Zoey is a daughter of the Big Three, you know, I told you about that before,” he says, turning back to Luke. The blonde nods. Zoey makes a face.

“It’s not that much fun. I’m actually illegal, and I’m the only one in my cabin so it gets a bit lonely sometimes,” she shrugs. Before Luke gets the chance to answer, Veerle comes rushing up to them and wedges herself in between Zoey and Niall. The action goes with a lot of protest and elbows-to-ribs, but eventually everyone’s settled and conversations are running – conversations Luke isn’t participating in. Louis just got back here after being away for months, so he has a lot to catch up with and to tell his friends about. The brunette is talking animatedly, painting the story he’s telling in the sky with wild hand movements. It makes Luke smile to see his best friend so in his element like that.

The heat of the campfire reaches Luke even through the several metres in between them. It makes him feel just a little bit too warm and sticky, but he doesn’t really mind. It’s nice, this – being huddled around a campfire with his friends (plural). The people here are a lot more accepting than out there, in the ‘real’ world, as Luke now refers it too. The whole Camp still seems a little unreal.

His attention is sucked away from Louis and his story-telling skills by the boisterous arrival of another group of demigods. There’s quite a lot of them, mostly boys with a few girls here and there. All of them are broad-shouldered, with a strong biceps and a powerful posture – they don’t look like the kind of people Luke would get along with. They’re all wearing similar, simple clothes, without any frills. Only one of them stands out. He’s standing more secluded at the edge of the group, talking to a tanned boy with multiple tattoos covering the skin on his left arm. His hair is bleached white and styled in such a way that it looks messy yet well taken care of at the same time. The reflection of the fire in the metal shows Luke his eyebrow piercing. He’s wearing a sleeveless leather jacket over a black shirt and ripped skinny jeans, the fabric clinging to his thighs perfectly. The black combat boots and the tattoos littering the pale expanse of his skin make him look like a full-on rebel. He’s exactly the kind of guy people warn you about – his entire being screams ‘trouble’. Luke can’t take his eyes off him.

The thing that draws him in most, however, is the boy’s face. He’s absolutely _gorgeous_. He has the nicest features Luke has ever seen, all soft edges and angelic visage. And his eyes are astounding. Luke can see the brightness of their green colour from all those meters away. The breath gets knocked right out of his lungs when they meet his own blue orbs. The eye-contact only lasts for a few seconds, but in that time Luke forgets how to breathe and his heart forgets how to beat.

He nudges Liam softly with his elbow when he’s mustered up enough courage. Louis would only make fun of him for asking, anyway. “Who’s that guy?” he asks once Liam’s turned his attention to him, subtly nodding in the boy’s general direction. Liam’s eyes search the crowd for a while before they still on one of the bodies standing there. Luke knows Liam knows who he means.

“You mean Michael?” Liam asks, though it’s a rhetorical question because of course Luke has no idea what their names are.

“Quite the dish, isn’t he?” Liam teases. Luke nods without even thinking about it, but all he gets next is the sharp push of an elbow against his ribs. He hisses at the pain it causes. “Don’t even think about it,” Liam says in a low voice, the warning unmissable in his tone. Luke shrinks in on himself.

“I wasn’t...” he starts saying, but he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence so he just lets it die.

“He’s nothing but trouble,” Liam says, keeping one eye on Michael, who’s standing amidst the bunch of laughing people with a stoic face and his arms crossed in front of his chest, his tanned friend in the same position right next to him. “He hangs out with the Ares kids all the time. Total asshole. You don’t want to go near him.”

The clothing style of the group finally makes sense now – standard battle gear. Of course the children of the god of war would wear that. “Is he not a son of Ares then?” Luke asks. Liam shakes his head.

“He’s a son of Aphrodite. Which explains his ridiculously good looks. They’re the only reason he’s so popular and almost everyone likes him,” Liam answers, casually taking a sip from his glass of water. “His looks are deceiving, though. Just, stay out of his way. Trust me, you want nothing to do with him.”

Luke nods, albeit a bit distractedly because his eyes can’t stop roaming over Michael’s features, the way he rolls his shoulder when his friend starts talking to him and how he throws his head back when he laughs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other every now and then.

Louis comes back to them, then, effectively blocking Michael from Luke’s line of vision, and starts a conversation Luke can participate in. They keep chatting for a while, as do the other demigods, all with their own group of friends, until their chattering and murmuring is interrupted by a loud voice that Luke recognizes to be Chiron’s. The elder man is in his full Centaur-glory, wheelchair abandoned. Now that Luke’s overcome the initial shock and fright, he thinks it’s actually pretty cool.

“Good evening, everyone,” he says, loud voice carrying over the entire field, even reaching the people farthest in the back. “Today, we have a new member of Camp Half-Blood in our midst. May I kindly ask Lucas Hemmings to come forth?”

Luke’s cheeks change to the shade of red a tomato carries within a single second. The gentle squeeze of reassurance Louis gives his shoulder does little to nothing to calm him down when all eyes turn to him as soon as he stands up. He’s never hated his length as much as he does now and of course he stumbles over his own feet at least five times during the short walk from the bench to Chiron. The Centaur welcomes him with open arms, but the warm hand he keeps around Luke’s shoulders only adds to the feeling that he’s suffocating, overwhelmed by all the attention until he’s unable to breathe. Luke only catches about half of the little speech Chiron gives, too caught up in trying to keep his breathing regular and his heartbeat at a healthy pace. When Chiron gives him a soft push against his back, he realises his fifteen seconds of fame are over and he stumbles back to his friends, practically letting himself fall down on the vacant space next to Louis. The brunette immediately wraps his arms around Luke’s shaking form, tucking the younger boy under his chin.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, running a hand up and down Luke’s back to comfort him. It helps, after a while. Luke regains control of his breathing and the trembling of his hands ceases.

“You excited?” Louis asks when Luke’s calmed down. The blonde shoots him a questioning glance.

“About what?” he asks, hugging himself because he can still feel people’s eyes on him.

“About finding out who your father is,” Louis replies, nudging Luke’s shoulder gently. “Did you even hear anything Chiron said?”

Luke shakes his head sheepishly. “Not really.”

Louis smiles and ruffles Luke’s hair fondly. “It’ll be fine. The claiming isn’t that exciting. Everyone always makes such a big deal out of it, but it’s over and done within a minute.”

Luke manages to hold back the snort threatening to escape his mouth. He knows Louis is only saying that to make him feel better – of course it’s a big deal to find out who your father is after a lifetime of not knowing.

So he sits tense for a while, waiting for it to happen, for himself to be claimed - what it is he’s waiting for, he doesn’t know. He’s half expecting it to be quite spectacular, something that Louis would brush off as ‘no big deal’, but that Luke would barely be able to recover from, though he knows Louis would never pull something like that on him. The brunette knows Luke’s limits – better than he does himself, sometimes – and Luke knows for sure Louis would never purposely put him in such a situation. So Luke just sits there, in between his newly found friends, with tensed up shoulder and his lip between his teeth, waiting for something to happen.

But nothing happens. He doesn’t get a weird feeling, doesn’t hear a voice in his head, doesn’t get a sudden realisation of “Oh my god I know who my father is”, or anything else that he’d imagined it would be like. Literally, nothing happens at all. Luke can still feel several sets of eyes trained on him that don’t belong to people he knows and he avoids looking up into the crowd to make sure he doesn’t accidentally look one of them in the eye. The prickling of his skin gets more and more intense the longer he's being stared at, however, and eventually he can’t take it anymore. He raises his head and his eyes immediately lock with a pair of bright green ones. They’re shimmering with amusement and are accompanied by a mocking smirk, pink lips stretched upwards at one point.

It’s Michael. Luke wants the ground to swallow him up and save him from the embarrassment he feels washing over him in tidal waves at the look on the boy’s face. It feels like he’s being laughed at right in his face. He figures Michael is ridiculing him for how he looked when Chiron called him up to the front – probably pathetic and completely lost and-

The gasps that suddenly erupt from the mouth of pretty much all people surrounding him pull him from his thoughts, tearing his eyes away from Michael’s face, who doesn’t look so mocking anymore – rather utterly shocked and disbelieving. He turns to Louis instead, confusion and anxiety making his head spin.

“What?” he asks, but Louis doesn’t answer, just stares at him like it’s the first time he sees Luke. It only worsens the confined feeling in his chest.

“ _What?_ ” he presses, wringing his hands together to keep them from shaking, and it’s not until he looks down at them that he sees why they’re all looking at him like that.

His hands are glowing, like there are blue neon light embedded in his skin, emitting a bright blue light. It’s not just his hands – the light extends throughout his entire body, creeping higher and higher, even above Luke’s head. He looks up slowly, afraid of what he might see, and his jaw drops at the sight he’s met with. The rays of blue tower up into the sky, disappearing into the clouds. He isn’t even paying attention to the glowing, pulsing light anymore – he’s staring at the emblem of a trident, displayed right in the middle in a lighter shade of blue.

Luke isn’t entirely uneducated about this world, he knows about the deities, has heard and read his fair share of myths, and he knows what attributes and symbolism the Olympians carry. There’s only one god the trident can be linked to – and the colour of the light accompanies it perfectly.

He is a son of Poseidon.

And that’s when it all starts making sense to him. This is the reason he loves swimming as much as he does, and it explains his ability to stay under water for over fifteen minutes and not drown.

He vaguely registers Chiron ushering everyone back to their dorms, repeating sentences like “The gods have spoken” and “Campfire’s over for today”.

“C’mon, buddy, let’s get you settled,” Louis murmurs into Luke’s ear, taking a hold of his arm and gently dragging him along to Poseidon’s cabin. Luke notices Louis and Zoey are the only ones accompanying them – the others stay behind, watching them with wide eyes. Goosebumps erupt on Luke’s skin.

Louis doesn’t let go of his arm until they’re in the cabin with the door closed. To Luke’s surprise, his stuff is already there.

“You okay?” Louis asks. Luke can just nod. He is fine, just a little overwhelmed.

“What the hell?” he mutters, sinking down on the vacant bed – there’s only two in this cabin, a large contrast to the Hermes’ one. “Why was everyone so shocked?” he wonders aloud, resting his pounding head on his hands. Louis sits down next to him, swinging an arm around his shoulders. It almost doesn’t fit because Luke is so broad and everything about Louis (except for his personality) is tiny. He just manages, though.

“Poseidon is one of the Big Three,” Louis states, as if that clears everything up. “Those are the most powerful gods. There’s a deal that they’re not allowed to have children with humans because those demigods will be too powerful for the other gods’ liking.”

Luke’s head shoots up, hurt flashing on his face. “So you’re saying I’m a mistake? That I never should’ve been born?” he says, voice shaking. He knows it’s not Louis’ fault, but he can’t help taking it seriously. Louis quickly shakes his head no, the movement so wild and sudden it had to have hurt his neck.

“No, of course I didn’t mean that. I’m actually very glad that Poseidon liked a certain woman so much he broke a sacred code to be with her,” he answers, squeezing Luke’s shoulder. The blonde sniffles.

“I know. Sorry,” he mumbles, leaning further into Louis’ touch.

“It’s okay,” is the reply he gets. Once again, Luke is struck with the appreciation of Louis being his friend. “I’ll leave you two so you can have some brother-sister-bonding. It’s getting late anyway. I’ll see you in the morning,” Louis says, pushing himself up off the bed. “Take care, Lucas.”

Luke manages a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

As soon as the door falls shut behind Louis, Luke lets out a groan and drops himself on his back. “How did you deal with this?” he asks. Zoey shrugs.

“They’ll stop finding it interesting after a while,” she replies, lying down in her own bed as well. “Try not to think about it too much and just enjoy your time here. You’ll feel so much more at home here than you did at your old school.”

She laughs when Luke makes a confused face. “We’ve all been there. Trust me, it’ll get better from now on.”

Luke nods thoughtfully, burying himself under the covers and closing his eyes. “I hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tinymichael.tumblr.com) or add me on kik to talk: mikeycuddle.  
> (Also check out [Veerle’s tumblr](http://larryismyjam.tumblr.com).)


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